You killed us both.
You killed us both.“Probably.” Syrina was happy that all she could do was grunt around the thin metal bar pressed through her mouth.
She still preferred speaking out loud to the voice, despite its objections, but incessant muttering would have made her escort even more nervous.
She couldn’t decide whether she regretted her new course of action. She’d made up her mind when she saw the borderman coming toward her with the scalpel, and she was still trying to sort out the consequences. Ever since she’d washed up on the beach in northern Ristro, she’d acknowledged that she would never make it to Chamælivishi. Then, in the long silence in front of the guard hut, she’d decided.
“Can you help me lie to Ormo?” She’d she stood in the road, surrounded, clinging to her hostage
